Yes, a happy crew just moments before we hit the trail. Seven miles later, however, few would be smiling, some would be crying, and others felt like dying. (Photo: Kim Fatica)

Winter hikes for my troop have typically seen modest sign-ups. We might get 10-15 boys and a few adults to go, but this year our troop swelled in size to 75 boys. Twenty-four of those boys attended this year’s hike, many of them first-year Scouts who crossed-over from Cub Scouting last February. This was their first backpacking trip. Four of the boys were older and highly experienced backpackers who trekked nearly 100 miles through Philmont’s New Mexico backcountry last summer. Twelve adults tagged along.

My troop's mascot and slogan were born from a brutal, ill-fated hike from years ago that is now part of our unit's lore. We were about to re-write the legend on this year's Winter Hike.

That’s a pretty good-sized crew to herd.

In past years, we’ve found solace around Hidden Pond in Ocala National Forest. This year, we thought we’d try the Green Swamp’s West Tract for a two-day, 15-mile trek in mid-January.

This trek goes down in the Troop 22 records book as The Epic. Our troop’s mascot is a skeleton with the slogan “Know Guts, Know Glory!” It was conceived some years ago after the Scoutmaster leading the hike became wayward and the troop, low on water, wound up hiking about twice the miles they should have that day.

I doubt many ever cared to see a backpack again after that, but success can be measured by how often the trip is recounted. Our hike will turn out to be one of those long-lasting memories.

Readjusting packs on the trail, especially early on, was typical for many of the first-year Scouts. (Photo: Kim Fatica)

Winter hiking in Central Florida is normally a real treat for me because it’s just like hiking in late autumn in northeast Ohio. I have Nordic blood in me that likes to be comfortable in cooler weather. We arrived at the West Tract entrance around 8:15 and it was a comfortable 65 degrees. Some adults shuttled cars to the end point and returned around 9:30. We were in the shade of a very grand oak tree, so it remained quite comfortable with little notice or thought of temperature change.

We did a water check prior to hitting the trail around 10:00. All boys had at least two quart bottles of water or a full hydration reservoir before setting foot on the trail. We had already planned on getting our water from the Withlacoochee River along the way. Clear skies assured us that the sun would be in its full glory. I unzipped the legs of my convertible trail pants, turning them to shorts. We were ready to head out.

Frequent map checks helped the crew to stay on the path to our water stop and our overnight stay. (Photo: Kim Fatica)

The trail was very sandy and dry and in many places wild hogs had torn up the trails, so right off the top this was going to give many sets of legs a good workout. A number of boys had attended a hike prior to this trek, so they had been given some instruction on how to pack and were somewhat prepared. Others who didn’t participate had trouble right off the bat. Within the first thousand feet packs began to shift and sleeping bags began to fall off.

The views along the trail were classic Florida wilderness: thickets of saw palmetto, oak hammocks and even reforested areas where slash pines grew in regimented rows. Our pace was lively and nobody seemed to mind that it was getting warmer.

Temperatures were predicted to hit the mid- to upper-80s and by the time we had stopped for lunch about three hours in, guys were starting to feel some of the effects of the unseasonably warm weather. We had kept the boys drinking their water along the way, so few complaints were heard to this point. They simply were very warm and began talking about finding our water source and going swimming to cool off.

Eventually, the creativity of individual lunch fares kept us rolling in a little laughter as we ate in the shade along the trail. It didn’t take long for the heat to be forgotten. Refueling helped everyone get back on the trail with renewed vigor.

At about Mile 8, the guys were really starting to feel the effects of the heat and lack of hydration. (Photo: Kim Fatica)

We were past the halfway point of the first 10 miles, probably around Mile 7, when I began to notice the mood swings. Several younger boys had depleted all of their water stores at the lunch stop, their packs were heavy and the early stages of dehydration were settling in. Some of the first-year boys wanted to quit and go home. A couple were sobbing. A couple leaders were carrying an extra pack because one or two of the younger boys couldn’t carry them any more. I was no longer looking ahead and around the trail, but straight down at the trail and taking pictures of unique fungi just to keep myself from thinking about the now-oppressive heat.

Water purification at our overnight stop was done through ceramic filtration or by UV treatment. (Photo: Kim Fatica)

It seemed like an eternity before we finally found our water source and our overnight stop. At this point, kids were ready to pack it in and I surely thought their Scouting experience was about to end with this outing.

The first good sign that proved me wrong revealed itself during the water purification process. We had two large Sawyer hydration systems going full tilt and some people had brought SteriPENs to purify their personal water supplies. The clay banks along the river were amazingly cool, and even though the water had a slight green tint from cypress tannins, everyone refreshed themselves quickly. Mercifully, moods returned to equilibrium after a hearty dinner and a small campfire.

The next morning, after breakfast and Sunday worship service, the talk centered around shortening the hike. The previous day’s 10 miles felt like Bataan and the adults were cognizant of the fact that some boys may be thinking that this outing was a buzzkill, that this hike would turn in to their reason for picking Nintendo over nature in the future.

We knew that we’d have to cross the Withlacoochee River. A recon mission led by hikemaster Dave Friedlander revealed a shallow part of the river about 100 feet wide that would be the safest crossing route. On a six-foot tall man, the deepest water at the crossing point was just about mid-thigh; on a much younger boy, their waist or higher.

All grins and smiles before making the 100-foot river crossing. (Photo: Kim Fatica)

Then there was the issue of packs. An experienced backpacker would never cross a river with waist and chest straps buckled; they would simply keep unbuckled in the event they fell in the water and could then shed the pack to avoid drowning.

The D-word…I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud. The risk was too great with first-timers.

While we mitigated risk, the excitement of fording a river just erased the awful remnants from the previous day’s mala fide footslog. The strategy to cross would require the boys to shed their packs, while a rope would be tethered at the shore and taken across the river by an adult who would serve as the anchor at the opposite shore. My son, the Senior Patrol Leader and an athletic six-footer, would be at the halfway point. Adults would ferry the packs across like a bucket brigade.

Adventure doesn’t get much better than that for a young boy on his first major hike.

One by one and clutching the safety rope, everyone crossed without incident. The cold water soothed aching feet and chilled overheated bodies. I’m sure it rinsed the stink off, too.

Once on the other side, the troop celebrated its first great victory as a team. There was even talk of conquering another epic adventure in the future.

About This Blog

Kim Fatica is a marketing professional and former Emmy Award-winning television photojournalist and operations manager originally from Cleveland, Ohio. He’s also a lifelong volunteer with the Boy Scouts of America, where he’s been involved with the program since he was a Cub Scout in 1970. He earned his Eagle Scout rank in 1976 and continued on in service as an adult leader, currently serving as an assistant scoutmaster for Troop 22 in Tampa.

He lived his dream of backpacking through the Sangre de Cristo mountain range with his son, Noah, at the Philmont Scout Ranch in Cimarron, New Mexico. The 12-day trek during the summer of 2012 took them on a memorable 80-mile journey that went through areas near the historic Santa Fe Trail.

Kim earned his undergraduate degree in Journalism and Mass Communications from Bowling Green State University and holds a master’s degree in Business Administration from the Florida Institute of Technology.